Petunia Evans: Not Just an Antagonist
by Rabid Lawn Gnome
Summary: There's no such thing as 'just' an antagonist. Petunia Evans had a past too. There were no fireworks, so passions, no tradgedies or betrayals: welcome to the life of a normal person. R&R?


Heeeyy people. I don't know why, but I just got all defensive over Petunia Evans, and felt that I had to express my defensiveness through a song! But I couldn't find any fitting music, so I wrote a story instead:) R&R, if you will. I don't know what the pairing in this one will be, or if there will be any pairing, so suggestion are welcome. And if you do decide to review, could you maybe inform me of any spelling mistakes? Because I know they're there... little buggers...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own all that stuff... and I'm all out of witty disclaimers:(

**Petunia Evans: Not Just an Antagonist**

I bit my lip and squinted further at the person in the mirror, pressing the balls of my neon green shoes further into the floor as I did so. Neon green - what a colour to represent me. Wanting to be loud, out-there, flashy - and not quite reaching the mark. Tall and gangly, an adolescent with a long head of wavy blonde hair stared back at me, her expression a mixture of doubt and concern. I trailed my fingers over my face, smoothing over my eyebrows, feeling the places on my cheekbones where the last sheen of freckles would be fading into pasty skin. The girl in the mirror didn't change her expression, though a brief flutter of angst-pain crossed her features. I knew I was being foolish; without a doubt, this vanity would get me no where. I wasn't quite so - angsty_ - _to be stuck in that mind set yet, thankfully. The girl's mutter, _my _mutter, was soft yet sullen. "Like _that's _going to stop it." For a moment my reflection changed, and I became a tall, willowy young woman with a brilliant smile and thick red hair, framing a pair of striking green eyes set in a olive-coloured face. The reflection flickered away, and my own was left standing there, the reflection of one disgruntled Petunia Evans. The girl whistled softly. "_Won_derful."

Losing the petulant expression, I dropped down lightly onto the edge of my bed, raising my eyebrows slightly as it bounced when I sat. In light of my mood, bouncing had a very sardonic humour about it. "Hell." My eyes trailed up to the ceiling, and I felt a mirthless smile curve my lips. "_Hell!_" Flinging my arms out, I fell back on the mattress. Less then a moment later, I sat up again, rubbing the back of my head with a death-glare to match, well, Lily's. No, mine was much better then Lily's - probably _thanks_ to Lily. _At least I can beat her in that._ Grinding my teeth, I took the book that had ruined my dramatic fall backwards and threw it onto the floor with a little more vigor than was necessary. I sneered. _Lily's _book. "God bless bloody Lily!" I raved quietly, sounding quite drunk and/or drugged for a moment. Who reads books anyway? My eyes trailed to the pile of books stacked neatly in the corner, and I cursed at my own stupid countermanding statement. _Just strap a bloody dunce hat on my head and call me-!_

"Petunia!"

I nearly winced at my mother's call. "Yep, mum?" Pushing myself off the bed forcefully, I sprinted to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me. The mirror inside showed mascara smeared at the corner of my eyes, and dark eyeliner at the rim of each eyelid.

"We have to go!"

I cursed loudly, then began to wipe at the make-up. "Yeah," I called back, neutrally. There was a silence, then feet on the stairs. "A minute, mum!" The feet stopped, hesitated on the fourth step (I knew these things well), then went back down. I would've sighed in relief, if I weren't so busy with the make-up remover. My mother was what some might call... a bit of a feminist. Just a bit. Not the sign-carrying-angry-voiced-give- me-my-rights-where-are-my-rights type either (no offense to any reading). Mum was the, '_Why do you need makeup? Is that all you think about? Male attention?' _type. The type that heaved book upon book about 'Inner Beauty' and 'Feminine Power' on every lipstick-wielding wench that passed by. Not that I'm a wench - quite the contrary, I think I'm rather modest with my make-up bag. Is that what a wench is anyway? What's the definition of a wench?

I blinked suddenly as my mind came back to reality, putting my frozen hand into action. Less than 20 seconds later, I left the bathroom quite pleased with my reflection, threw on a random sweater, grabbed my purse, then sprinted down the stairs. Nimbly, I jumped from the fourth step to the landing, then straightened up and walked into the foyer, where two middle-aged people stood waiting. The first was a tall, blue-eyed man with an easy smile, who turned one of these on me as I entered the room. I returned it thinly, trying to push warmth into my expression. The man, my father, turned to speak something quietly to my mother, who was looked up from fastening the buttons of her long city coat. Like my father, my mother was a very young-looking woman. It was hard not to glance at her and think 'Lily' - and she was; in mind, body and spirit. The woman had never grown up, it seemed to me, even from a young age. She'd always been bursting with vigor and passion in everything she did, and in every aspect of her life. Like my father, this is where she and I differed. He and I shared the same quiet, passive nature, as well as appearance (his hair was blond, so is mind. Must I go into detail?). I _had _however inherited the scanning look that my mother was giving me right now, always seeming to find every blemish and freckle on my skin.

One done her inspection, she nodded and looked to both my father and I. "Let's go then." Without another word, she turned and led the way to the car, her strides brisk and purposeful. My father and I shared a small grin before following, both of us knowing well to follow when my mother said so.

-----(Car ride)------

We pulled up to the station with a slight bump, driving up onto the sidewalk - as always. I smiled faintly at the awaited curse from my mother, and my father's calming voice that followed. My father had been teaching my mother to drive for a month now, and our trips to various places around the city (with my mother in the driver's seat) always brought me a great deal of interest and amusement. I loved how my parents acted when mum drove: my mother would curse and grow frantic, only to be calmed readily by my father's reassurances from the passenger's seat. It was truly adorable. Cursed middle-aged couples, making you smile _and _gag. It was also, of course, practical - I was absolutely petrified of being in the car with only my mother.

"Do you want me to fetch Lily?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at a particularly colourful curse from my mother to a pedestrian who'd been observing - and remarking on - her driving. My father turned in his seat with that faint grin he liked to use when my mother got this way. "That'd be great, Pet."

I rolled my eyes at the pet name - get the joke? - but dutifully opened the door and pushed myself out of the car. Grabbing my bag before the door closed behind me (an annoying habit of our old car), I set off towards the train station. Oh, the train station. God bless it. The one thing in my life that _never _changed. Every year, at the start of summer, my family would reunite at King's Cross. My passive father, my frantic mother, my petulant self, and...

"Lily."

I stopped, mid-step, plastering a small smile on my face as she came into the view. I watched as this somewhat-stranger plaster a smile on her own face, also stopping a few feet away. "Petunia." I could almost hear her thoughts, as they were also my own; _This just gets more awkward each year, doesn't it?_ There was a moment of silence, in which I dug my fingernails into my palm rather painfully, and then I opened my mouth to speak again. "How-?"

"_Lily!_"

I was cut off by a frustrated-sounding shout from a figure who was running up behind Lily, waving his arms almost frantically to catch her attention. Despite my best efforts to remain nonchalant, my eyebrows climbed upwards. The boy was tall, with terribly-unkept hair that flew wildly around his hazel eyes, which were framed by lopsided glasses. My eyebrows climbed a little higher, and I stifled a laugh. _My sense of humour is _definitely_ on an off day, _I thought, even while to restrain my mirth at his flailing arms. The guy had this strange, unshakable aura around him that just shouted ARROGANT, which also made me want to laugh, because arrogant people... are funny...

What the hell is wrong with my sense of humour?

"Lily," he panted, coming to a full halt in the space between me and my sister. He reached his hand out and grasped her shoulder. "Lils," Lily shifted slightly, but didn't attempt to shrug him off. Instead, she nodded towards me. "James, this is Petunia. My sister." Her tone was rather frosty, I noted. James (or so called) turned to looked at me, then turned back to Lily. "You have a sister?" he asked, in a puzzled voice. Lily seemed to be fighting a sneer, or a snarl, or something. James seemed not to notice the waves of hostility crashing in his general direction, and even began a little speech. "Lily, I know that we've had our differences in the past, but..."

Getting bored with this one-way conversation - don't ask which way, because I'm not really trying to be literal about this - I let my gaze wander around the platform, or lack of (Platform 9 and three quarters my arse!). My gaze feel on a group of guys standing a little ways away from our own group, watching James and Lily with very open snickers and laughter. One of these guys saw me, and I looked away quickly, tensing up. Bloody habits! While Lily was doing god-knows-what with James, I could barely stand to have a guy look at me. Self-conscious, anyone? Inhaling deeply, I forced myself to look back, but the guy had already moved on to James and Lily, and was currently doubled over with laughter. I felt a little tide of self-pity well up in my chest, and fought it down quickly. Lily was Lily, and I was going to have to live with that. For a whole summer.

"I'm going to go now, Lily." I said in an overly-enunciated voice, though the girl wasn't paying a speck of attention to me. "You know where to find me." Shrugging, I walked back over to a vacant bench, and pulled a fashion magazine from my purse. For some reason, I had a feeling that Lily's 'conversation' with the scraggily-haired guy was going to take a while, if not all day. Also, the idea of going back to the car and explaining to my parents why _Lily _wasn't with me didn't seem all that appealing.

Absorbed in an article about the smokey eye, or something, I hardly noticed when someone sat down next to me.

"So... Lily's sister?"

Fighting the urge to tense up - bloody-! - I smoothed my face to that of a cool, collected, nonchalant person, and spoke non-committaly with my eyes still on the magazine. "Yep." There was a silence, and I wondered if he'd meant it to be a rhetorical question, or a statement of a fact.

"Really?"

Nope.

"Really, really."

"Must be an awesome sister."

At this, I lost all dignity and broke out laughing. "Ooooh yes. Great sister."

I could almost see his face wearing a puzzled expression, trying to work out why his question was so funny. Curiosity overwhelming my best efforts, I lifted my face slightly to look, and was shocked to find him grinning. I glanced down hurriedly, resisting a frown.

"...Do you share a room?"

I was silent for a moment, while a smile widened on my face. At last I looked up and rolled my eyes, then hit him with the magazine. "_No, _we don't." It seemed I hadn't miscalculated the aim of his joke, because he grinned back widely. "No need to get violent over it," he said, feigning an hurt sulk. I rolled my eyes again, and tried to pretend I was resuming interest in my magazine.

_God _I'm terrible around boys. Sara, my best friend (in dispute...), had told me this on several occasions, though her goal had never been to offend. Sara was a very factual person, who had a tendency to be over-honest. For once, I fully understood where Sara was coming from.

Biting my lip, I forced myself to lift my head, and look at the boy. It took effort not to drop of gaze immediately, but I didn't, and instead moved it to Lily and James - who were still talking - once I'd gotten a full picture of him. Very handsome, the boy had dark think hair - that _didn't _mess like James's - and cool, grey eyes. Not at all like mine, may I add to continue my self-pitying spiel. His were vibrant and observative, whereas mine were flat and dull. "Who are you waiting for?" I asked curiously, now watching Lily and the James without a spark of interest.

"Me? I'm waiting for Potter."

I turned my head back to the boy, pushing hair from my face. I'd gathered that James was now 'Potter', though I'd yet to determine how this boy and ... Potter ... were connected. "Are you brothers then?" I asked, curiousity overwhelming the urge to excuse myself then make a dash for the car.

He was silent for a moment, eyes on Lily and James. "Of a sort." he replied finally. A grin suddenly sprang to his face as I studied him. "Don't look now, but I think it's over." Pulled out of my thoughts, I followed his eyes to Lily and James, who were now parting ways."Took long enough," I said, joining the boy's grin as I stood.

When he stood also, I was surprised to find him towering over me by quite a ways. It wasn't an everyday occurrence for a girl of my height. "I'm Sirius, by the way." he said, still with that brilliant grin. Despite myself, I smiled back. "Petunia. Until next year?" He nodded with a wink, then jogged off after James.

Feeling extremely pleased with myself, not having made an utter fool of myself, I made my way back to the car, where Lily was already waiting. She glanced up with a foggy expression as I slid onto the seat next to her, and I noted the flicker of puzzlement that crossed her face. Opening the magazine again, I toned down my pleased expression a notch. What? It's not everyday you have a conversation with a wizard.

**To be continued.**

I had to do that.(soap operas made me). Soo... review? Maybe, yes, no? Perhaps? Isn't that the same as maybe? Who cares? I don't know!:D How anyone ever heard the song Malibu by Hole? Just when you think you can sink no lower, you start listening to Courtney Love...


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